Moonspear monster mash,

Silence.





Then, Tell me what you are thinking, she requests; he takes it as a demand, and slants his ears.

As erroneous as his claim had been, and futile, and damaging to his relationship with his brother, Revui could not fathom a response to such a question. He knew he had done wrong and he had paid the price for that. He had been beaten down; first by Hydra's teeth, then by the force of her will as she choked the sense out of him. Revui was swimming in the black pit of his mind now, reaching for an answer that would appease, but he was coming up short. Who knows, maybe Hydra's intervention and subsequent bludgeoning had removed Revui's last brain cell. He draws a slow breath and after languishing in his failure, he finally answers.

It was not your fight. He addresses her intervention specifically; the way she had swept in and prevented Arcturus from doing what was his right as the Beta. Whatever her intentions, Revui had come to the mountain believing that the way of their mother and father was law, even though they had passed. That by confronting his brother he could find his place upon the mountain. It was how the world had always worked—until Hydra. Revui did not give his sister a moment to explain herself, moving ahead with the flow of thoughtful, if a bit sluggish, words pulled from the dark nether of his mind: I was doing my duty. The woman was meant to be mine, as we agreed, and yet Arcturus would not give her to me. I had to fight him. I did not want to kill him—and so he lives.

He did not mention how maddened he had been by the woman's presence, how the scent trail of her body had such a strong reaction within his own. Hydra knew more about the folly of men than Revui did.